It might be ours
by myspiderwebsitar
Summary: Or, how the chivalrous, dashing, and very brave Elders of Uganda's District 9 found out their fearless District Leader Elder McKinley was dating God's favorite Mormon, Elder Price.
1. The Hard Way

How the chivalrous, dashing, and very brave Elders of Uganda's District 9 found out their fearless District Leader Elder McKinley was dating God's favorite Mormon, Elder Price.

**A/N: **Hi! This is my first (published!) fanfiction. This is also my first attempt at joining fandom. So, uh... it's nice to be here.

**Warnings: **The idea that Mormons are uncomfortable with homosexuality is handwaved at best. If you're looking for a realistic description of... anything, this probably isn't the right story. I pretty much exclusively serve fluff, and bad attempts at humor.

**Disclaimer: **Book of Mormon does not belong to me. I'm recklessly warping the words of Matt, Trey, and Bobby.

Chapter 1: The Hard Way

Of all the things Elder Neeley hated about Uganda—the violence, the AIDS, the death, the loneliness, the snakes—the one thing he hated more than anything else was the heat.

Gosh, it was hot. He was sure the eggs were frying themselves on the counter. The walls were probably melting. The air was probably boiling.

_Jesus, I know I'm here on your command and you know I love doing your work, but are these long pants really necessary? Could you forgive me just this once? In Heavenly Father's name, Amen._

When he pulled his hands apart, Elder Neeley noticed they were sticky with sweat.

Gross.

That was a no, then.

Elder Neeley managed to slosh over the freezer hoping for—darn it! Didn't anyone around here know the rules? If you finish off the ice, you replace it. Simple.

He wondered if there was a way to finger-print the fridge and force the ice culprit into doing some extra chores, or something.

Elder Neeley glanced at the clock, and decided the chances of his survival over the next 12 hours without ice weren't as high as he hoped. So, bracing himself against the warm wall of bugs and unbreathable air that awaited him, he opened the door.

The walk to the ice house wasn't too long and his destination was the coldest place for 10 miles. That made the fact that Elder Neeley was practically turning into a puddle worth it, right?

Using the very last of his wobbly, gelatinous arm strength—_Jesus, please don't fail me now. I'm so close.—_to swing open the door of the ice house, Elder Neeley was thrilled to collapse into a fresh, uninhabited Arctic Tundra.

Well, maybe not fresh, as the ice was mostly water. And maybe not Arctic Tundra, because it was Uganda. And definitely not uninhabited because clearly some other people had the same idea. There was the General, sitting in the corner, skinning a carcass.

A very bloody carcass.

Elder Neeley nodded nervously at him. There was Kalimba, chatting with the ice house owner—what was her name again?—about, well, something colorful. But Elder Neeley was used to that. He had heard more swearing in the last 2 months than he had his entire Utah born-and-raised whitebread life. But Elder Neeley was pretty good at filtering that stuff out. The last time he had accidentally taken the Lord's name in vain, his apology prayer lasted upwards of an hour.

(Sometimes Elder Neeley was convinced he was the only Elder who used that 9 to 10 blocked out time for actually conversing with the Lord.)

And—oh, look! It was the familiar white shirt/black pants combo. Some other Elders had come to replace the ice after all. Couldn't they have left a note?

As Elder Neeley bounced forward to say 'hi,' he noticed...

Oh.

Wow.

That was Elder Price and Elder McKinley, wasn't it?

They were sitting kind of close, weren't they?

Like, legs wrapped around each other or something.

Elder McKinley was sitting on Elder Price's lap.

He was whispering something in his ear.

Was that even legal?

_Jesus, Lord, Heavenly Father, please. Umm... get me out of here. Amen._

Elder Neeley noticed Kalimba glaring at him. He smiled weakly, and she motioned him over, hissing in his ear, "This is the only place for 50 miles those two boys can get some peace, so I'll expect you'll leave them right alone, understand?"

"Oh, um, yeah. Sure." Like he was going to give another answer under that gaze.

She scrutinized him, then smiled.

"Maybe you ought to go over there and say hello. I'm sure those boys wouldn't mind knowing they don't have to keep their oh-so-forbidden romance oh-so-secret every waking minute." She shook her head, lowering her voice. "And, you know a few of us here have been trying to... well... let them know it's not the sin they think it is. But it would mean more coming from you, in that Latter Day Nametag of yours."

Elder Neeley managed a real smile and stumbled over to the corner of the ice house where Elder Price and Elder McKinley were... _oh._

Well this was awkward.

Seeming to sense the unwelcome presence, the district leader and his super Mormon broke apart. They gazed, horrified, at the bewildered Elder a few feet away.

Elder Price was licking his lips, on the verge of speech, but Elder McKinley beat him to it.

"It's... um, well... oh, my. Hi, Elder Neeley."

"Hello, Elder McKinley."

"I'm, um, really sorry that, um..."

Elder Neeley could feel Kalimba's eyes setting the back of his head on fire. _Jesus,_ he thought. _Jesus, I... what do I do? _Oh, screw it._ Sorry, Jesus. Be back in a second. Amen._

Elder Neeley turned his attention back to Elder Price and Elder McKinley in front of him, who were now staring at each other with a sort of protectiveness. It was pretty cute, actually. Made Elder Neeley think of all the times back at home, with his own girlfriend, and that dreadfully rude boy.

Elder Price gripped Elder McKinley's arms and pulled him to his chest, while Elder Neeley fought his brain, where all the logical parts were telling him he couldn't just cut Jesus off in the middle of a prayer. But right now... he could. Because this was Elder McKinley, who taught him how to dance, and Elder Price, who was far too generous with his smiles.

He opened his mouth. Elder Price glared at him.

"I... uh, no, No! It's not that. Really." Elder Price's look of "I will kill you if you hurt the boy in my arms" slowly slid off, replaced by one of confusion.

"Not what?"

"I'm not... it's not... it's not like I'm going to report you—not that I have anyone to report you to... oh, dang it." Elder Neeley steeled himself. "I mean to say, Elders," he began, more formally this time, "I... you make a cute couple."

It was hard to say which of the three Elders looked more surprised at the words.

_Jesus, did I really just say that?_

"Thank you, Elder," said Elder McKinley. He looked slightly hysterical.

"No, really. I'm happy for you. I hope you... Yeah. I hope you have a happy life together."

Elder Price laughed nervously. "It's a little soon for that. But, um, yeah. Me too. Thanks, Elder."

"Sure thing," Elder Neeley said, his face red. "Just let me know if you ever need me to, uh, help you find some privacy."

Elder McKinley smiled gratefully. His eyes looked almost wet. Elder Neeley stepped back in alarm.

"Well, uh, see you."

"You too, Elder Neeley."

Elder Neeley stumbled out of the ice house.

_Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Heavenly Father. Let them know... let them know I'm here for them. We all are._

Back in the ice house, Kalimba beamed over at the missionaries in the corner. Elder Price kissed Elder McKinley on the nose, smiling bright enough to be at least part of the reason the ice was melting.

"I think that went well," said Elder Price.

"I think I love you," said Elder McKinley.

"I think the mission house is probably still without ice," said Kalimba.

As it turned out, she was right.


	2. The Silent Way

**A/N: **So I'm using the name Connor because that's the fan-accepted one and I like it. If you came up with it and you want credit or something, please let me know! I can't help feeling like I'm sort of plagiarizing here...

Chapter 2: The Silent Way

Elder Thomas crunched down thoughtfully on a carrot. He sat down on his bed, pulled his knees up to his chest, and stared at the blank wall opposite him.

This was sort of like that meditation thing Elder McKinley was always going on about, right?

Elder Thomas sighed. The truth was, he didn't know what Elder McKinley was going on about half the time. And it made him feel like the worst mission partner ever. Though he knew Elder McKinley didn't mean to make him feel that way, he couldn't help it. They had nothing in common.

Maybe he should try this meditation thing after all. Then at least they'd have something to talk about... other than 'I miss my cable TV' all the time. And really, there were only so many times one could miss their cable TV...

Not that there was much to talk about in the way of meditation, either.

Elder Thomas shook his head. Elder McKinley was great. He was the District Leader, after all. And none of the other Elders ever had trouble connecting with him. Maybe it was something wrong with Elder Thomas, then.

Hugging his knees tighter to his chest in self-pity, Elder Thomas swallowed the last of his carrot, closed his eyes, and winced. He would be a better mission partner tomorrow... He would be a better mission partner tomorrow...

What was that thing Elder Cunningham was always saying? Tomorrow is a latter day? Well, tomorrow was the first day of his paradise partnership with Elder McKinley.

He had some leftover Poptarts in the cabinet. Maybe Elder McKinley wanted one. Elder Thomas would even offer him the s'more ones. Those were his favorite...

Elder Thomas stretched out into a sitting position, and with great effort, thrust himself off the bed and onto the floor. He had told Elder McKinley he would clean their room today. See? He was trying!

Elder McKinley was a neat person by nature, so there wasn't all that much to do. Elder Thomas swept up the dust from the grainy floor, somewhat listlessly. Methodically, he wiped down the windows and rearranged the clothing in the sparse drawers, listening to the hum of those too-close-for-comfort mosquitoes.

Elder Thomas's blond hair was matted to his forehead and his cheeks were flushed pink. Maybe Elder McKinley would realize how hard he'd been working...

_Hey. Cool it. You cleaned a room—a room that's half yours. You're not winning any prizes for sainthood today_, he told himself.

Windows sparkling, Elder Thomas moved to the beds. He pulled up the covers on Elder McKinley's thin mattress, and fluffed up his pillow.

Hang on. There was something there, under the pillow. An envelope, a little too white to blend in with the off-color sheets.

Elder Thomas picked up the stiff square and slid it open with trembling fingers.

_That's not nice,_ he scolded himself. _Really. I mean, what happened to privacy?_

Elder Thomas was a little too far past caring. What if the envelope unlocked the key to, oh, say, being Elder McKinley's best friend?

_You're pathetic._

_I know._

The piece of paper inside the envelope had been folded over several times, each of its creases exact.

The handwriting on the inside matched the precision and neatness of the folding. His eyes darting quickly to the still-closed door, then back to the letter, Elder Thomas turned his back on the window and began to read.

Dear Connor,

Wow, I missed you yesterday! But it's worth it, I think, because if my predictions are accurate (and they usually are—you know me!) that missionary field trip may have just doubled the size of our church. How awesome is that?

And I'm super super sorry I had to leave early again this morning, but if you'll meet me outside tonight, I'm sure we (me and my cookies!) can make it up to you.

All my love,

Kevin

xoxoxo

Elder Thomas glowered at the letter. How long had Elder McKinley been sneaking off at night without telling him? How long had Elder Price been stealing his district partner from him? Why hadn't Elder McKinley ever told him he was—was what?

Gay?

In love?

In love with that no-good, partner-stealing, loved-by-everyone Kevin Price?

Everyone except for Elder Thomas, that is!

Weren't mission partners supposed to tell each other these things? Elder Cunningham probably knew. Elder Price probably told _him_ everything. He probably had no qualms about trusting Elder Cunningham with his and Elder McKinley's secret. The three of them probably hung out in Elder Price's room all the time, talking about... about...

Stupid Kevin Price. Now Elder Thomas couldn't even think straight.

Straight! Ha, that was kinda funny. Because his district partner wasn't!

Elder Thomas threw the letter down against Elder McKinley's bed, entirely unsatisfied in the way the paper failed to make a noise. Elder Thomas settled for banging around a few picture frames, instead.

Elder Thomas wondered how many other people knew about Elder Price and Elder McKinley's love affair.

He wondered if anyone else knew.

He wondered if he might be among the first to know.

Maybe Elder McKinley had always wanted a friend he could talk about boys to. Well, Elder Thomas could be that person.

He could be supportive. He could be patient. He could be whatever Elder McKinley wanted him to be.

Elder McKinley opened the door to the dingy little room, interrupting Elder Thomas's reverie.

"Hi!" He smiled brightly at Elder Thomas. Elder McKinley's hair was a mess. Elder Thomas felt a twinge of guilt. He shouldn't have read that letter. But now maybe he had a chance to convince Elder McKinley he could be a good mission partner...

"Thanks for doing the room, Elder Thomas!"

"Yeah, sure. Any time."

Elder McKinley bounded over to his bed.

_Well, he has a lot of energy today_, Elder Thomas thought, somewhat sourly. The truth was, Elder McKinley had a lot of energy every day.

Then the Elder's heart sank. He had forgotten to put the note back into the envelope. The note that was just inches from Elder McKinley's fingers.

_Don't notice the... don't notice the..._

Elder McKinley snatched up the letter, and its disloyal envelope, and glanced over the writing, a pained expression settling over his face.

"Did you, um... Elder Thomas?" Elder McKinley turned around slowly. He looked so terrified, Elder Thomas was afraid his face might crack.

"Oh, gosh." Elder Thomas rose from his bed and practically ran over to give Elder McKinley a hug. He wrapped his bony arms around the thin waist and squeezed. They stood that way for a while. Elder McKinley began to gasp. Embarrassed, Elder Thomas let him go.

"Uh, Elder McKinley? I'm really, really, really, really, really sorry for reading your letter. Like, so sorry. Like, I'll leave you alone right now if you want me to. Like, you'll never have to clean this room again, if you want me to do it. Like, like... like, Elder McKinley, you're the best mission partner ever."

Elder Thomas stared at his shoes. Elder McKinley coughed. Elder Thomas worked up the nerve to look up.

"Elder Thomas, you know something? You never cease to surprise me."

"I... surprise you?" Elder Thomas was sort of flattered. He didn't realize Elder McKinley had been paying him any attention.

"Absolutely. You're amazing, Elder Thomas. Thank you for... for... for not mentioning, you know, it."

"It?"

"That I'm... yeah. Gay."

Elder Thomas laughed in relief. "Oh. That. There are worse fates than being gay, I'm sure. Like falling in love with Elder Price, for instance."

He stuck out his tongue at Elder McKinley who blushed, then grinned.

"Kevin's wonderful!" he declared sheepishly.

Elder Thomas raised his eyebrows. "Maybe I'd like him better if you brought me back one of those cookies."

Elder McKinley laughed. "Maybe I will."

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Elder McKinley called. He was smiling giddily at Elder Thomas. Elder Thomas's heart swelled.

Kevin Price poked his head through the door.

"Connor! I didn't think I'd see you before... oh, hey Elder Thomas."

Elder McKinley motioned the intruder in.

"I got your letter!" he added brightly.

Elder Price gave him a "don't talk about that in front of the children" look—the one Elder Thomas's dad had down to an art.

Elder McKinley laughed lightly.

"Oh, don't worry about Elder Thomas, he already knows! I... told him."

"Oh." Elder Price looked surprised, before relaxing into relief.

"Well, uh, cool. Thanks, Elder Thomas."

"Oh, uh-huh. Sure. I— I need to go. Bye. See you later."

Third wheel was not a good look for Elder Thomas. He slid out the door, mind spinning.

"You must really trust him," Elder Price remarked. "What made you decide to, uh, come out?"

Elder McKinley shook his head. "I didn't feel I had a choice."

"Next time, ask me first, k?"

Elder McKinley nodded. "Yeah, I wasn't thinking. Sorry."

Elder Price grabbed his boyfriend, twirling him around in excitement.

"Don't apologize. I _love_ PDA!"

Elder McKinley swatted him. "Bit full of ourselves, are we?"

Elder Price leaned down to kiss him.

"Well, we _are_ a beautiful couple." 

Elder McKinley thought he might have heard violins.


	3. The Rolling Way

**A/N: **Oh my gosh, you guys, thanks so much for the lovely feedback, here and on tumblr. You guys are the best.

Okay, this one's a little long. It's dedicated to my synagogue youth group, which every year decided to have a bowling night, and every year, never did.

Chapter 3—The Rolling Way

Elder Davis's flip-flops were navy blue with white stripes. They cost $5 at Target, and they were a going away gift from his brother.

At first, Elder Davis had been kind of annoyed. He was going away for two years and he got—what, a pair of flip-flops? Not even a card? Not even a hug?

Not to mention flip-flops were entirely useless in a world where his missionary uniform called for smart black dress shoes every day, and tap shoes on Saturday. And although Elder Davis still had no idea why his brother thought the shoes were a good idea—or why he thought bringing a bunch of prescription pills to school to sell was a good idea either, for that matter—they had turned out to be pretty useful.

After being excommunicated from the church, the first thing Elder McKinley had done—even before appointing himself totalitarian ruler (but a nice one!) was make Friday "casual Friday."

This meant almost nothing to the other Elders, whose style choices were pretty much confined to "tie or no tie," but Elder McKinley had managed to pull an entire wardrobe of lavender button-down shirts and khaki shorts out of nowhere.

Of course he had.

And Elder Davis could wear his flip-flops, which saved him from washing his socks one day earlier.

But tonight, none of the Elders were wearing their nice shoes, their even nicer tap-shoes, or even their flip-flops. Tonight, they were wearing bowling shoes.

Because, for some reason, Elder McKinley had decided tonight was team bonding night. And apparently at his youth church group back in Utah, bonding night meant bowling and movies and pizza.

So here they were. At a bowling alley. A fairly decrepit, rather dark bowling alley 90 minutes away from their mission house. The kind of bowling alley that only served french fries after dumping a bucket of grease on them.

Sometimes, Elder Davis thought, it should be illegal for Elder McKinley to be this persuasive.

Well, maybe persuasive wasn't exactly the right word. Elder McKinley had pleaded with them—and even made breakfast two days in a row—until all the Elders had caved under his clasped hands and wobbly pout, agreeing to go to bowling night.

It was just really hard to refuse Elder McKinley anything. Especially when you knew he'd treat you to a full song-and-dance performance about it, if you gave him enough time.

Elder McKinley had been, from the start, the only Elder genuinely excited about tonight.

Well, the only Elder willing to show his excitement publicly, at any rate. Privately, a few of the other Elders had agreed it might be kind of, well, not the worst thing in the world to get out of the missionary hut for an evening. And of course, they had shown plenty of outward, fake enthusiasm, because Elder McKinley pouting was a terrible thing.

In fact, it had become a bit of a running joke—who was most excited for BOWLING NIGHT?

Elder Schrader had won that competition, they all agreed, by waxing poetically about the feel of a bowling ball in his hands at breakfast the previous morning. (There had been lots of innuendo.) And while Elder Davis had to duck under the table because he was laughing so hard, Elder McKinley had completely failed to notice anything.

Elder McKinley was currently already in his size-9 ugly maroon bowling shoes, bouncing around on the uneven wood floor next to a rack of bowling balls.

Elder Davis traded in his flip-flops for equally stylish saddle sneakers. He sat down next to Elder Price, who seemed frustrated with his own shoes' inability to tie properly.

Elder Price had been the only Elder not to get involved in the "how much do we love bowling" joke, instead choosing to roll his eyes whenever the idea was mentioned.

Yet not even his bad attitude had bothered Elder McKinley, who had just laughed at his friend's whiny behavior and said, "what, you're afraid I'll beat you?"

Elder Price had managed a tiny grin at that.

"Hiya, Elder!" said Elder Davis. In truth, he was thrilled to be outside their small village.

Elder Price winked at him, tugged on his laces, clapped Elder Davis on the back, and jogged over to Elder McKinley, who was doing... jumping jacks? Dear G-d, this was not a track meet.

Elder Davis's eyes followed Elder Price, his white shirt untucked, as he ran all the way to Elder McKinley's corner of the floor. They were too far away for Elder Davis to make out what they were saying—all the caught was a lot of arm waving and a few shy smiles.

Elder McKinley turned back to the shoe rental area, ready to round up the troops.

"Okay, Elders. Listen up!

...Elder Church—put that shoe down! That is not what God intended that shoe for—oh, dear. Oh my goodness! Elder Church, you stop that!

Guys.

_Dudes. _

Boys. Boys, listen to me!"

"Shut up," said Elder Price, his voice dripping with politeness.

No one wanted to risk not listening to Elder Price.

Elder McKinley shook his head.

"Right, thanks. Okay! Here we go. Split up however you wish. First two lanes. Let's go!"

Elder Davis found himself typing his name into lane one's gritty keyboard, alongside Elder McKinley, Elder Price, Elder Cunningham, and Elder Church. The tiny TV screen hung from the ceiling above the lane, showing their names and their scores (all blank) in 20-point type.

Elder McKinley grabbed the first sparkly blue ball as Elder Davis and his companion Elder Church collapsed onto the cracked leather seats several feet back from the stacks of balls.

Elder Davis offered his companion a small smile.

It felt weird.

He didn't suppose he smiled all that often. Elder Davis worried too much for that.

By contrast, Elder Church never seemed worried about anything. Elder Davis supposed there was nothing to worry about if you never broke any rules, or were very good at turning things off.

A sudden shift in personal gravity alerted him to Elder Cunningham's presence on their bench. The newest arrival leaned over Elder Davis to tap Elder Church on the shoulder, and Elder Davis knew it was time to begin the arduous process of tuning Elder Cunningham out.

Instead, he focused his attention on Elder McKinley and Elder Price, standing side by side at the edge of the bowling lane, watching Elder McKinley's ball veer to the right along the wooden pathway. The ball disappeared behind the lane, taking nine pins with it.

"Yay!" cheered Elder McKinley. He bounced up and down, clapping.

"A nine? I can do way better than _that,_" said Elder Price, nudging the District Leader.

"Sure you can. Let me get my spare first."

Elder McKinley missed his spare. Elder Price earned his strike. Elder McKinley pouted. Elder Price grinned.

While Elder Cunningham fervently tested every bowling ball on the rack in preparation for his turn, Elder Davis clacked onto the floor with a plain, black, far-too-heavy-for-his-scrawny-arms bowling ball. He rolled a paltry six, but couldn't bring himself to care, because he had found something far more interesting.

The thing that was interesting was standing by the bowling rack.

_It_ was the tension between Elder Price and Elder McKinley.

And _it _has just moved over to the hot dog counter.

Elder Davis strained his ears.

"I'll pay," Elder Price offered, but Elder McKinley waved him away.

"Thanks," Elder Price said, a few minutes later, around a mouth full of hot dog.

"I can't believe you actually think you can beat me at bowling!" Elder McKinley offered, by way of response.

"Oh, believe me, sir. I can. I can crush you. I can utterly annihilate you. You will be offering me a crown."

Elder McKinley spluttered.

"Kevin Price! You watch your mouth!"

"What—you going to tell my mother?" Elder Price smirked.

Elder McKinley raised his eyebrows. "No, but I will... I'm going to— If I win, you're going to have to... you'll be baking me a lot of cookies, Kevin Price."

Elder Price looked down fondly at the other Elder, whose face had gone as red as the ketchup on his french fries.

"Sure. Anything you want, love. But when I win..." he leaned down and whispered something in Elder McKinley's ear, causing his companion to resemble a beet.

Elder Price let his hands rest lightly on Elder McKinley's shoulders for just a moment, before trailing his fingers down the other Elder's arms. Elder McKinley pushed him away, but at this point, it was impossible for him to be any redder.

_Wow, _Elder Davis thought. _Subtlety. Elder Price doesn't have it._

He found himself suddenly torn between the 14-year old girl part of his brain, which was squealing and cheering for the forbidden love story playing out in front of him, and the itch in the back of his head that was telling him that his two friends could be in serious trouble if anyone found out.

If God found out.

...

What was he talking about?—of course God knew. God knew.

And Elder Price and Elder McKinley were still here.

They weren't racked with terrifying hell dreams. They hadn't been struck by lightening.

No burning brand mark had appeared on their forehead.

They were still here—perfectly fine. Staring at each other with perfectly sappy, dopey. love-y, obvious looks on their faces.

Which meant... God... didn't care?

Approved, even?

Wow. Imagine that. God personally approved of Elder Price and Elder McKinley's relationship.

Well then, so did Elder Davis.

Elder McKinley saw Elder Davis watching the two of them, watching their hands touch, and turned—since it wasn't possible to be any redder—pale white. Elder Davis, not one for words, shook his head and smiled lightly. He waved Elder McKinley off with his hand, seeming to say, "I approve of that boyfriend of yours. Don't make me come over there and say it to your face."

Like he was Elder McKinley's grandfather.

Elder McKinley looked like he wanted to burst into laughter. Or tears.

He grabbed tight to Elder Price's hand before letting go, quickly.

Still afraid.

"Come on, Kevin, it's my turn."

"Alright, I want to see this gutter ball."

"KE-_VIN_. You be quiet, you hear me?"

"Sure, Mom."

Elder McKinley looked like there was nothing he wanted to do more at that exact moment than kiss the boy standing next to him, smirking.

He didn't.

Instead, he walked up the bowling rack and grabbed a ball. Pink. Ten pounds.

Elder Price grabbed one of Elder McKinley's french fries and stuffed it in his mouth.

Elder Davis looked back at Elder Church, yawning.

Oblivious.

He looked at Elder Cunningham, stealing french fries.

Oblivious.

He looked at Elder McKinley, who was all of a sudden quite distracted, and unable to get a ball to roll straight.

He looked at Elder Price, swinging his arms back and forth, a few feet behind his... boyfriend.

He watched the points tick up as the bowling frames went by. He watched Elder Price's inability to throw a ball anywhere but straight down the center. He watched Elder McKinley get increasingly frustrated with Elder Price's bowling perfection.

He watched his own score barely move anywhere, and he watched Elder Cunningham stuff himself with french fries.

He watched Elder Price's flirty hand gestures on Elder McKinley's shoulders—how had he been so blind?

He watched Elder Price's utterly ridiculous victory dance, and Elder McKinley's more ridiculous pout.

And in no time at all, it was time to head back to their village, where all the Elders were considerably louder than normal.

There was something in those french fries.

"Thanks," Elder McKinley whispered to Elder Davis, once they were crammed into the back of their van.

Elder Davis shrugged.

Later that night, Elder Price and Elder McKinley ended up on a small bench just outside their hut.

"You need to be more subtle, darling," Elder McKinley said to Elder Price. "Elder Davis noticed."

"Noticed what?"

"...I'm not sure, exactly. He _noticed."_

Elder Price shrugged, then pumped his fist in the air.

"That's three down. This religion is less homophobic than I thought."

"Don't you _care?"_

"Why would I care if people knew about my lovely boyfriend?"

Elder McKinley swallowed. "I guess you're right."

"I usually am. Now, if I remember correctly, I was also right about that bowling thing. I think I won tonight. By a lot."

Elder McKinley groaned.

"You owe me a long night. Want to start now?"

"Will you bake me cookies in the morning?"

"Did _you_ win our bet?"

Elder McKinley kissed him softly, refusing to sink low enough to answer.

"One more thing." Elder Price said, against his lips.

"Hmm?"

"I've never actually bowled before."

Elder McKinley smacked him.


	4. The Nightmarish Way

**It might be ours: Chapter 4**

**A/N:** I'm sorry for delay on this one. This is for my incomparably lovely sister Eva who has asked me, every single day for the past several weeks, if I've written chapter 4 yet. Well, Eva, here you go!

Warnings: Violence. Not explicit. But enough that I disturbed myself. Not that I believe you will be disturbed, of course. I'm just so used to my fluff~

**Chapter 4: The Nightmarish Way**

Elder Church, not one prone to swearing, couldn't be cursing harder. (Inwardly, of course, and at himself, but the Lord could still hear, so that didn't make it any less of a sin, right?)

All the wrong and dirty and illegal and forbidden words danced across his thoughts, and no matter how hard he tried to scrunch up his brain and crush the stream of cusses, he just couldn't do it.

Overcome with a vile wave of self loathing, Elder Church found himself buckling under the weight of his disappointment.

It had been months and months and months since something like this had happened -he couldn't remember the exact count right now, but certainly it was more impressive than any of the other elders' records- and now, Elder Church had messed up.

Again.

Of course he had.

_Fu-_

_Da-_

_No, I can't- I'm in enough trouble as it is -no more -I can control my thoughts. I will control my thoughts. I don't need to swear. Swearing doesn't make me feel better. I need to behave, and I can get out of here quickly. Whatever it is, this is okay. I can deal with it. I can handle this. I can do this. No more. Just -behave._

If there was one thing Elder Church hated more than anything in the world, it was having no one but himself to cheer him up. Maybe that was why he had developed so many imaginary friends as a kid. Pep talks worked better out of someone else's mouth.

And if there was a second worst thing in the world? It might have been this. The dreaded hell dream. It was that constant stabbing reminder that he'd failed himself, failed his mother, even failed Heavenly Father, that made Elder Church want to beat himself up.

But he couldn't do that, because being beat up was the thing he hated the third most.

Elder Church had a list- it got all the way down to 15, the most recent edition, which read: Having to talk to Elder Price for extended periods of time.

That was another thing that made him feel alone- his dislike of the cocky, selfish missionary. Not once in the three months that Elder Price had been here had Elder Church ever seen him so much as offer anyone a hand to help them get up.

So Elder Church was in some sort of limbo between all his least favorite things. He was right in the center of hell -fiery pits, acid lakes, and all- he was probably going to be tortured by the demons here (a few bruises and a black eye never went amiss) -and he was utterly alone.

Well, not entirely alone. There were plenty of lost souls running around trying desperately to escape the burns and whatnot, but that didn't matter. Elder Church had no one here.

But that might be better, right? It wasn't like Elder Church _wanted_ to see his friends in hell. Besides, what help could they offer him here? Elder Church didn't mind taking holding up his own fair share of troubles. After all, it was better than having to hold up anyone else's. Elder Church had declared his independence from all people who tried to help him at the ripe age of five. (Except his mother, of course. But that was just because there was no one better than a mother to cuddle with. He was _not_ a mama's boy.)

Okay, then, another night alone.

_Da-_

_No. Don't do it. Behave. Don't let yourself get punished for anything else This will be over before you know it._

Anything else. Right. Because the reason Elder Church was currently ankle deep in molten lava (he might as well be honest with himself) was his fight with Elder Davis.

Which had started with a lie.

A stupid lie, about whose mess that pile of clothes was (Elder Church knew full well they were his), which had escalated to a larger one about how Elder Church _always_ did _all_ the work around this place and no one _ever_ offered him _any _help (okay, maybe that could be gently classified as an exaggeration), which had blown up into a lot of insults and accusations of laziness, weakness, and parental abandonment issues (of all things!), which had resulted in Elder Church storming out of the hut, slamming the door, and going on a long, huffy walk for a good hour when he was supposed to be studying scripture.

Elder Church wasn't even sure how many rules that was he had just broken -probably all of them- or how much trouble he'd be in with Elder Davis, and the district, tomorrow when he woke up. A lot, no doubt.

He wasn't even sure what had possessed him into behaving like this strange, new, volatile, overemotional, angry Elder Church. He had survived the first 20 years of his life so far by being just the opposite- his motto in life and on facebook was "stay cool, calm, and collected."

It worked, usually. Elder Church managed to follow the rules. He didn't get sent to Hell often. Sure, he saw his so-called friends roll their eyes when he started preaching, but for the most part, everyone liked him alright. He was dependable. Easy to get along with. He followed the rules.

Except for now. When he wasn't. And now, he was going to pay for it.

Elder Church had paid for a lot of things in his life. Mostly, they hadn't been his fault. That made them easier to deal with. This, not so much. But there was no use waiting. He wasn't going to wake up any faster. Might as well... get this over with.

Elder Church knew if he didn't go face Hell, the demons would come and drag him into it. And that, no doubt, would be worse. So, ignoring the fact that his legs were burning but the rest of him was shivering -winds should not get that strong- Elder Church groped his way towards a large cavern with a flashing neon sign that read "Have your tags out and ready for inspection, all ye who enter here."

Well. At least Lucifer knew Dante.

Elder Church was stamped into the center of Hell by a tiny little goblin smiling too brightly for someone mostly immersed in a fiery lake. He smirked at Elder Church.

"Have a nice night, deary."

Elder Church nodded hurriedly, rushing down the cave's corridor. Having to sign in was humiliating, but it was necessary, if he didn't want to get sent back tomorrow. He wasn't sure what was going to happen to him tonight, because he'd never been sent here for such a high-magnitude crime before. Drinking coffee was about as rebellious as Elder Church had ever, in his whole life, been known to get.

"Right this way, Elder," leered a skeleton. "Don't worry. Tonight's not too bad. I'm sure it's nothing worse than your father's taught you, eh?"

He kicked Elder Church in the stomach, causing him to keel over and lose his footing. Elder Church sunk deeper into the burning floor.

"Hey, hey! And guess what! You'll have company! I hear some of you other missionary friends need to learn their place tonight, too. Won't that be fun?"

_Could Elder Davis possibly be here tonight too? Because he yelled back? But then- that's not this circle of hell, right? He'd get something lighter for that, probably. I think that skeleton was trying to tell me they're going to use me as a punching bag tonight. At least that's nothing new, right? And all the bruises will be gone in the morning. Piece of cake._

The skeleton, Elder Church's unofficial guide, aimed one last hard kick at Elder Church's legs and shoved him into a glowing cavern, wheeling shut a boulder behind him. No escape.

Elder Church felt himself sprawled across the ground, his whole body on fire. He felt a few prods and kicks on his back and knew they would get worse if he didn't pull himself up soon.

So he did, and they got worse anyway.

It was sort of like being jabbed at with knives, or having lots of soccer balls thrown at you. Nothing too terrible. Physical pain couldn't actually really harm him here. It was, after all, only his soul.

Elder Church stood there, arms out, taking invisible hits to ever part of his body, feeling very much the martyr.

Then the demons came.

He shouldn't have had that last thought.

_There were no martyrs here._

The demons were crueler. They twisted Elder Church's body into inextricable shapes, hitting him with any number of things he couldn't quite classify.

But they finished all too quickly. Elder Church was surprised. There was no way it could be morning yet.

Alas, no. It was break time. Or something. Time for the demons to go get their coffee. Which gave Elder Church a few uninterrupted minutes, or something.

Crawling up from the position he had been forced into, Elder Church dared to take an inventory of the places where it hurt. (Hint: all of them.) Then, figuring he had already seen the worst, he bothered to stretch and look around.

He was met with a most shocking site. Apparently not all demons took their coffee break at the same time in Hell. Rather, most corners of the cavern were still conducting their own methods of torture: some physical, worse ones psychological. But that wasn't the shocking part -in the cavern nook closest to Elder Church lay-

_Elder McKinley?_

_Elder Price?_

Kampala's District 9 was not having a good night.

"Elder- Elder Price? Elder McKinley? W-what are you doing here?"

"Elder Church?"

Elder McKinley extricated himself up off Kevin's stomach where the two were collapsed in a heap.

"Fancy seeing you here, Elder. Don't think we've crossed paths before."

"I-uh-"

"Oh, of course. This is about that fight you had with Elder Davis today, isn't? Well, it's like I always say- spend a long night in hell, and everything looks better in the morning!"

"You do?"

Elder McKinley sighed. "No, of course not. Nothing looks better from over here. Everything looks red. And awful. It's an awful place to be, Elder, but what else can I say?"

He then crossed over the few feet of lava to lay a supporting, comforting hand on Elder Church's shoulder.

"C-Connor?" Elder Price appeared to be stirring from his heat-induced coma.

"What is it, Kevin?"

"I- where did you go?"

"I'm over here. With Elder Church."

"W-what's Elder Church doing here? Uhhh. Oh, right. That fight this morning."

Elder Church flushed; now he, too, matched the fiery backdrop.

"That's right. It's nice to have company, isn't it?"

"I don't know if I'd say nice..."

Elder McKinley gave Elder Church a quick hug. "You'll be fine, Elder. You look shaken."

"I- I'm alright. When will the demons be back?"

"They're usually gone a good ten minutes or so. If you're lucky, fifteen. Yours just left?"

"Yeah. Hey, Elder-"

Elder McKinley appeared to be doing some calculations in his head.

"Good, you're alright then. I think Elder Price and my reprieve is almost over."

"Elder McKinley, why are you two here?"

"Oh. Hmm. Right. Well, I- I mean- I mean, it's like-" Elder McKinley looked lost. "I, uh, we're here because-"

Elder Church rubbed at his arms, trying to be patient. He had to admit, he was curious. What _had_ super Mormon Elder Price done?

_Don't take pain in other's misery, _he scolded himself. _You're better than this. No one deserves this. Not even Elder Price. _

_Still- it's nice to know-_

_No, no it's not. It's not nice to know other people are sinners too. You can be curious. That's okay. But no ill thoughts towards your companions, right? _

Lost in his current moral and emotional struggles, Elder Church had failed to notice the arrival of a large, bat-like demon, who was now perched on a stone in front of him and Elder McKinley.

"What's that you asked, my friend? You, there. Blondie," squawked the creature. "Oh, that's right! You asked why these two fine young sinners are here. Well, since they won't tell you, I will."

Elder McKinley buried his face in his hands.

"_These_- deviants- _these_- perverts- _these_ abominations- these _homosexuals_ are here because -don't you know, Elder Church? Homosexuality is enslaving, destructive, and addictive! All things we strive for here in Hell. But wait a tiny moment, Connor McKinley. This young man you're standing with- this isn't your pathetic boyfriend. Do you mean to say you've been unfaithful? You've found a new toy? Or perhaps, you aren't listening to my rules again when I tell you to stay where I left you!" The demon's voice turned quickly from a simper to a roar; Elder Church shivered for Elder McKinley's misfortune.

_But- gay? Mormons can't be gay! They must have this wrong. This must be part of Elder McKinley and Elder Price's torture. Having me believe this about them._

"It's the last one, isn't it?" Wheedled the bat creature. "You know what happens when my rules get disobeyed, don't you, Elder?"

Elder McKinley nodded. Elder Church backed away.

As the demon moved closer the Elder McKinley, he was interrupted by a shriek.

Elder Price had gotten to his feet and, on uncertain footing, was making his way towards the merry trio.

"No! Oh, gosh! Connor! Connor- Don't hurt him! Please! Connor, are you okay?"

And with the grace of an overexcited dolphin (which is to say, not ungraceful at all), Elder Price launched himself at Elder McKinley, doing his best to shield him from any incoming blows.

Together again in a heap, Elder McKinley found his voice.

"D-don't hurt me? I appreciate the valiant effort, Kevin, but this is Hell here. You can't protect me."

"I can try."

"You won't succeed. I'm much stronger than you, and way better at this, so please let me do the protecting here. I promise, Kevin. I can't let you do this."

"You are _not_ stronger than me."

"In lots of ways, I am. Shut up, now."

"Watching them hurt you is-"

"Shh, Kevin. Don't say that. They already know. And if they don't, you're not doing us any favors by telling them. It'll be fine now. Are you ready? Here they come-"

"STOP. _TALKING._" Screached the demon. "Get up, get off him. Come on, now. There. If you won't listen to me the first time..."

Elder Price and Elder McKinley found themselves blasted apart and stuck to the back wall of the cave, a few feet between them, completely unable to tear away from the stone, or even to see anything. Hell had blinded them.

"Much better." The demon's satisfaction couldn't have been more smug.

"Connor!" Elder Price's voice was small, desperate, broken. If he hadn't been paralyzed with fear and loathing, Elder Church might have been reassessing his opinion on Elder Price based on that one, small plea. But he _was_ paralyzed with fear, and could do nothing but watch. A part of him was in awe of Elder McKinley's acceptance of his fate- he reminded Elder Church of the old war movies his dad liked to watch. A soldier in the front lines of battle. Stoic. Calm. Prepared for death.

"I'm right here, love. It's okay. Relax." A soldier with a tragic, fated love story. Even better.

Their jailer chuckled. "Ooh, we have a brave one, don't we?"

Elder Church watched in horror -first as Elder Price and Elder McKinley struggled against their invisible bonds, and then as his own demons began their procession back towards him from the other side of the cave wall, Starbucks cups still in their skeletal hands.

When the demon flying in front reached Elder Church, he plopped down and shook his head in disgust.

"Hey, man, you've been released on parole or something. Good behavior and the like. Something those two over there-" (he jerked his thumb at Elder McKinley and Elder Price) "-have never gotten. Damn heroes, the two of them. So if you want to follow me, you can leave now. Don't take anything with you. We hope you enjoyed your visit, and you'll be tempted to come back soon."

Elder Church, shaking, was barely able to comprehend his good fortune before being dragged out of Hell by his hair.

_Not again. Not ever again._

But back against the cave wall, Elder McKinley and Elder Price still had hours to go. Flinching against the iron pokers and the strips of leather, Elder Price had begun his nightly mantra under his breath.

_I love you Connor I love you Connor I love you Connor I'm sorry Connor I want to help you Connor Let me save you Connor I love you Connor I love you Connor_

There was no saving in Hell. (And if there was, Elder Price wouldn't admit it, but he was pretty sure he'd be on the receiving end.) The chant was comfort enough, however, against Elder McKinley's shrieks and groans. After a while, Elder Price noticed he no longer felt any pain against his own body. It was only Elder McKinley's screams... growing louder...

And in another moment, Elder Price was awake and drenched in sweat and utterly alone. The fire and brimstone red had faded to velvety, nighttime black and his boyfriend's screams had become his best friend's snores. Elder Price lay shivering in bed for a moment before he tip-toed out of his room and into the hallway, where Elder McKinley was already waiting for him.

Elder McKinley threw himself into Kevin's arms.

"Kevin- oh, Kevin! What were they doing to you back there?"

"To _me_? They were hurting _you_, Connor. They were torturing you. They made me listen to your screaming, over and over again, I couldn't move. I couldn't help you. I couldn't trade places with you. Oh, Connor, I'm so sorry."

Connor looked confused for a moment.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, love. I wouldn't have let you if you tried. But those demons are getting awfully careless. Don't you see, Kevin?"

"N-no, no, I don't see."

"That's what they did to me as well. Made me think you were the one being hurt. That you were suffering. It was all a trick. A horrible, awful trick. But we know better now, and they can't get us like that again."

Kevin clutched Connor tighter.

"Come on. Let's go sit outside for a little bit. Just the two of us."

On the little wooden bench, with Connor's head nestled in Kevin's lap, and Kevin's fingers tracing patterns soothingly all over Connor's arms and face, Connor thought of something.

"Do you think Elder Church will remember that in the morning?"

"What? Elder Church? Uhh... oh, gosh, I hope not. I don't think he would take it too well. I don't know. Maybe that fight he had this morning humbled him or something."

"We should check in on him."

"Yeah, maybe. Not right now though."

"Of course not right now. I have _you_ right now, alone, and we're not about to be dropped into some all-consuming fire."

Connor pulled himself up so he was face-to-face with Kevin.

"When do you think those dreams will stop?" Kevin asked.

"I don't know. Maybe never. I can't-"

"It can't possibly be never. God's got to change his mind about liking us as a couple sometime."

"Kevin, don't joke, okay? I don't want you to go through this for the rest of your life- I won't let you."

"I can handle it. You're there. I can handle most things when you're there."

"Hell you can handle... but not how to turn the oven off, huh?"

"That was one time! And I'm still a better cook than you."

Connor shrugged. Kevin leaned over and planted a kiss on his nose. On his forehead. On his cheek. On his lips. All over his face.

This was Kampala, Uganda, and there were no heartbreaks here.


End file.
